


Screams Echoing Off the Metal Walls

by Scribomaniac



Series: Broken Bridges [4]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: F/M, Gen, Kinda, Origin Story, Rey on Jakku, Reylo - Freeform, barely, tfa prequel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-03
Updated: 2016-02-03
Packaged: 2018-05-17 23:17:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,775
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5888983
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scribomaniac/pseuds/Scribomaniac
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She used to know.  She used to know the name of the planet she lived on, the names of her family members and what they looked like.  She assumed she knew why it was they left her on Jakku, too, but whenever she tried to bring up any of those details, any clue that might help lead her back to her family, her head would split open with the most agonizing of headaches.  </p><p>A glimpse of Rey's life throughout her years on Jakku.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Screams Echoing Off the Metal Walls

Rey’s nose tingled unpleasantly as grains of sand seeped through her make shift mask and up her nostrils.  Sucking in a deep breath, she sneezed loudly, expelling the foreign particles from her nose.  Groaning softly, Rey wanted to kick herself.  She’d just given away her position inside the Star Destroyer to any other scavengers nearby.  Rey, at nine years old, wasn’t very big.  Not at all, really.  So she needed to move quickly in case any other scavengers—bigger scavengers—came looking for the source of her sneeze.  Grabbing the few pieces she’d been able to collect and placing them into her net-turned-satchel, she climbed up the fuel combustor with ease and surprising grace.  Most other scavengers Rey's age weren’t nearly as quiet or as nimble as she.  Not by half.  Rey didn’t know how she could do all that she could.  She used to know.  She used to know the name of the planet she lived on, the names of her family members and what they looked like, she assumed she knew why it was they left her on Jakku, too, but whenever she tried to bring up any of those details, any clue that might help lead her back to her family, her head would split open with the most agonizing of headaches.  Nowadays Rey just accepted her abilities at face value—it was much easier that way. 

Carefully walking down the exterior of the ship, Rey kept her eyes peeled for any suspicious movement.  Once her feet were safely on the sand, she looked up at the sky.  The sun was no longer in the middle, it was just about to make its descent downwards.  The day had come and gone meaning Rey had been out in the ship for well over eight hours now.  Readjusting her satchel, she walked in the direction of Niima Outpost.  One day, she swore to herself, she’d have her very own vehicle to drive herself from the Graveyard of Giants to town.  For now though, she’d have to do without.  So with her jaw set and chin held high, she began the trek.

The walk took over an hour, and Rey never drank a drop of water during the journey.  She only ever had some water before entering a ship, exiting a ship, and after her arrival at the Outpost to ensure she never ran out of the precious resource.  It was hard, but she tried not to let the thirst get to her, and on most days she was successful.  To help take her mind off her thirst, she focused all her attention and remaining energy on scrubbing her scavenged pieces clean.  She used all her strength, fully intent on erasing every grain of sand, every inch of grime, as quickly as she could so she could give her items to Unkar Plutt in exchange for water and portions.  Glancing up, Rey saw an older woman meticulously scrubbing her own items.  She’d been a scavenger a long time, longer than Rey had been alive.  Every day, though, she’d see the woman sitting at the work bench, cleaning her items.  Rey didn’t know where she scavenged—she never saw her in the Graveyard, but she always appeared with items for Unkar.  Rey watched her for a half second longer, admiring the way she cleaned her items, before her dry, almost scaly tongue twitched and reminded her of her intense thirst. 

Walking up to Unkar Plutt’s hut should have been easy.  Unkar was the only relatively friendly face Rey knew on the entire planet.  She’d been in his care since she first step foot on Jakku.  She could still remember the way he yanked on her arm when she tried to run after her family and yelled at her to be quiet.  Maybe that was the reason she always hesitated before walking up to his window and displaying her items to him.  Or maybe it was because she could see, even though all his kindness and protection, that he only saw her as a tool.  Something he could use to his advantage.  Rey was a good scavenger.  One of the best, actually.  And Unkar Plutt liked having the best work for him.   He hummed as he looked down at her offering, twisting and twirling some of the items.  Eventually he put them down as offered, “One-half portion.”

Pursuing her lips, she didn’t argue—though she knew he was ripping her off—she just took her portions and hurried off to Unkar Plutt’s house.  Although Unkar Plutt allowed her to stay in his home—though she never understood _why_ —Rey still had to take care of herself.  She was in charge of procuring her own food and water, her own clothes, even maintaining her own safety while out in the graveyard.  Still, at least she had a roof over her head at night.  That was more than most could say on this planet. 

Sitting down on her blanket—shoved in the corner of a room—Rey immediately drank some water and began activating her portion.  While the portion warmed up and the bready powder absorbed some water and began to inflate, Rey pulled her blanket to the side and ran her fingers over the small scratches in the floor before adding a new tally mark at the very bottom.  Rey had started this tradition a few days after her family had left her on Jakku.  She’d begun to lose track of how much time was passing, especially without a calendar, so she improvised and made a calendar of her own.  There were over six hundred tally marks now.  Unkar would be furious if he knew what Rey had done to his floor, but she couldn’t help it.  It was almost compulsive now.  Wake up, scavenge, exchange for portions, tally mark, sleep, repeat.  Scarfing down her portion quickly, Rey settled down on her blanket and closed her eyes, exhaustion soon over taking her.   

The next day, much like the one previous, Rey found herself sitting at the Niima Outpost scrubbing as hard as she could at the grease stains on a band limiter.  She was just about finished cleaning her haul when she heard Unkar Plutt’s voice call out, “ _Girl_!”  Knowing he was referring to her, Rey’s brows raised when she saw him wobbling over.  His mouth was twisted into a scowl—or, at least, Rey thought it was.  It was hard to determine between that and his normal facial expression.  He was close enough now to grab her.  His meaty hand squeezed her bicep so hard Rey hissed in pain.  “Come here, _girl_!”

Unkar Plutt dragged Rey away from the table—not even allowing her time to gather her items—and towards his home.  He walked towards where her blanket usually was, but today was not.  The blanket was mysteriously absent and the tally marks that were supposed to be hidden underneath.  “What have you done to my floor, girl?”  He yelled in her ear.  Rey squirmed in his grasp and felt tears prickle her eyes.  Panic began to uncurl in her chest.  He was going to hurt her, she knew it.  Something in her belly told her so.  “You’ve done it now girl,” he snarled.  “Do you know how much it’s going to cost to fix this?  You’ll be working this off for years!”

She hated when Unkar got like this.  He’d yell and rage and for what?  Some stupid, dirty floor!  Rey did know what it would cost to fix the floor: nothing!  The floor was basically made of hard packed sand.  All he’d need to do was scrape away the marks.  It wouldn’t take longer than a few minutes.  Feeling a burst of courage in her chest, Rey began to struggle and flail her body, trying to break free.  She wouldn’t let him user her again.  She wouldn’t be his slave.  Not for portions and not for some dirty floor! 

Ripping her arm from his grasp—perhaps not the smartest escape strategy, but Rey would deal with the bruises later—she didn’t give Unkar Plutt a chance to grab for her again.  Turning heel, Rey ran as fast as her feet would carry her out of the house. “Get back here girl!”  Unkar Plutt yelled after her.

Rey thought she heard him yell something about not being allowed back if she left, but she couldn’t have cared less.  She wanted to get away, as far away as she could, and never look back.  She wasn’t sure where she was going—especially now that she no longer had a place to call shelter—but she was never going back to Unkar Plutt. 

Breathing heavily, Rey saw that she was back at the cleaning station and, amazingly, her items were still on the table.  “I saved them for you,” the woman Rey saw every day told her with a kind, almost sad smile.  “I didn’t want you to lose your portions because the Blobfish was being a sleemo.” 

Giving the woman a tentative smile, Rey gathered up her items into her satchel and muttered a quick “Thank you,” before turning and running off once again.  She needed to find shelter for the night, and she needed to find it _fast_.  If the sun set before she found a place to rest, she was a goner.  The desert nights were worse than their days and many young scavengers were known to underestimate the harsh climate drop and consequently die in their sleep from hypothermia. 

The sun was just about the sink below the horizon and Rey felt like she’d been walking longer than she ever had in her entire life.  She hadn’t even gotten any portions to eat because of Unkar Plutt.  Thankfully she still had her satchel of items that were still tradeable—if Unkar Plutt would still trade with her, that is—and some water leftover from her day of scavenging.  Not that it’d do her any good if she didn’t find anywhere to ward off the night’s chill.  She’d just climbed over a sand dune when she saw it: an AT-AT.  It was laying on its side, half buried, at the bottom of her dune.  Rey scoured the surrounding area to see if there were any signs that the AT-AT was already inhabited by someone.  Not seeing anything obvious, she slid down the dune and as quietly as she could and walked up to the machine.  There were no security traps around the legs or the underbelly of the AT-AT so Rey took a chance and twisted the hatch open.  The inside smelled horrible, like air that had turned stale, but Rey didn’t care enough to leave.  It was safe, that was the important part.  Crawling inside, Rey placed her satchel down and took a look around. 

It wasn’t very spacious, but it was big enough for her.  There was plenty of room for her to lay down and sleep and even extra room to store portions, water, and Graveyard junk.  Walking up to one of the blank metal walls, Rey found a nail and set to work of creating a new tally calendar.  When she finished, she stepped back to look at her handiwork.  The once bare wall was now decorated with six hundred and twenty three tally marks and Rey couldn’t help the satisfied smile on her lips.  She liked being able to display her calendar instead of hiding it beneath a ratty old blanket.  Looking around, Rey felt her chest swell up with a sense of peace.  This place was now hers, she’d officially claimed it, and she’d be damned if she let anyone take it from her.

 

* * *

 

Rey stared down around the hangar bay of the abandoned Dreadnaught Cruiser.  She’d found the ship without even meaning to.  The ship she’d originally been planning on scavenging—an Imperial Landing Craft—was compromised.  As she’d prepared to descend into that ship, she’d heard voices.  Three voices to be precise.  They belonged to other scavengers.  They had to.  Other scavengers had approached her before, she was a good scavenger, after all and many had asked her to join forces with them.  To scavenge with them. They always spoke of promises like protection, community, and larger portions, but Rey always turned the offers down.  She knew some of them had to be decent people, and perhaps she could’ve come to trust and rely on them, but the risk was too great.  She’d heard too many horror stories. Too many stories where a member of that so called community would turn greedy and kill some if not all of their supposed companions.  There were too many untrustworthy people on this planet—a fact if there ever was one—for Rey to take that sort of chance.

So Rey had turned around and high tailed it away from the Landing Craft.  She’d desolately thought she’d go another day without a portion and began her trek back to her AT-AT when she’d tripped over the hatch for the Dreadnaught’s hangar bay.  The ship was buried under mountains of sand, but the hangar bay had been revealed by the shifting dunes and the unrelenting wind that had picked up momentum over the past few days.  Rey knew she’d hit the jackpot.  There’d be enough items in the ship to earn her copious amounts of portions.  A week’s worth at the very least.  The only problem was Rey couldn’t move.  Her legs were frozen beneath her as she stared into the dark corridor.  What if the ship crashed before the crew could evacuate?  Rey had never been the first to discover a ship in the Graveyard before.  What if she came upon a body in one of the rooms? 

Hands feeling clammy, Rey’s heart beat erratically in her chest.  It beat so hard it was the only sound she heard.  Her mouth felt dry—drier than usual—and she couldn’t make herself swallow.  What _would_ she do if she found a body? Would she scream?  Probably, her mind supplied, but _then what?_   Would she leave?  Would she keep scavenging?  What if the bodies had somehow been preserved? What if they hardly looked dead at all?  What if they looked like they’d just closed their eyes for a light nap?

In the end it was her stomach that made the decision.  The muscles of her belly cramped and twisted with the pains of starvation.  She’d been scrapping by on a half Portion a day, but it wasn’t cutting it.  Her growing body needed more.  Closing her eyes and breathing in deeply, Rey steeled herself for what she had to do.  Slowly but steadily, she moved her feet.  One foot followed the other as she made her way deeper into the ship.  She wanted to start with the reserve power generators with two hopes in mind.  The first being that she wouldn’t come across any bodies there and the second being that she could find some parts that still worked.  She’d noticed some things while waiting in line for portions at the Niima Outpost, and it seemed like Unkar Plutt always paid more for items that still worked.

Climbing up the generators wasn’t hard.  There were plenty of places to grab onto or to place her feet, but the metal was harsh and jagged.  If Rey wasn’t being _perfectly_ careful—and, after all, no one was perfect—she’d end up cutting her hands, arms, and knees somewhere along the way up.  It always happened though, so Rey hardly noticed such minor injuries.  One day, she told herself, she’d be able to barter for some protective gear.  Or, better yet, Rey’s family would finally— _finally_ —return and take her home to a place she’d never have to scavenge to live again.  For now though, she’d ignore the cuts and bruises and scour the generators for any and all salvageable items.

Everything was going according to plan, Rey had gathered half a satchel full of good—really good—items when all of a sudden, a burning, white hot rage spiked within her chest.  The emotion felt foreign, as if it didn’t belong to Rey, and in her shock she lost her grip on the generator and began to fall.  It happened so fast, a scream tore its way out of her throat.  The sound echoed off the metal walls for half a second before being cut off as her body hit the hard ground.  Thankfully Rey didn’t feel the immediate aftermath of the impact.  The moment her head hit the metal floor her mind went blissfully blank.

Groaning, Rey wasn’t sure how much time had passed before her consciousness returned and she was able to open her eyes.  Her head felt hot, as if the sun had been blazing down on it for the past twelve hours, and her body felt disoriented.  Everything from her neck down ached softly, and Rey knew that within a few hours her body would be covered in nasty, dark purple bruises and that the aches she felt now would only increase tenfold.  Rey was grateful the pain wasn’t sharper.  No bones were broken, somehow she wasn’t bleeding, and although she was worried of what she’d see when she finally look at the back of her skull, she reasoned with herself that it couldn’t be that bad.  She was alive and awake, after all.  After a few moments longer lying on the ground, she was able to roll over onto her stomach and push herself up onto her knees.  Rubbing the back of her neck, Rey briefly wondered what had happened to her.  What was that anger that had flooded her so suddenly?  Well, she figured, the feeling was long gone now and she needed to get moving. 

It was slow going, but eventually Rey made it back to the hangar bay.  She could see the sky from the opened hatch and groaned again—this one was not caused by pain.  The sun had set and there was no way Rey would make it back to her AT-AT so late.  Stomping down on a new wave of fear, Rey resigned herself to the fact that she’d be spending the night in the Cruiser.  Beginning her limped walk again, Rey headed for the crew’s quarters.  She supposed she’d be finding out if this ship still had bodies on it after all.

Luckily for Rey, the room she entered was free of bodies.  In fact, it was still quite well preserved and well stocked.  Rey saw a whole crateful of rations pushed to the side of the room.  However, even though her stomach had been ravenous before, now it was silent and the only thing her body wanted was go to sleep.  On the other side of the room there was a bed—an honest to god bed—with a foam mattress and blankets and everything and Rey thought she’d cry at the sight of it.  She didn’t, of course.  Crying led to nothing but dehydration and wasting resources. 

Instead, she slowly and carefully lowered her body onto the mattress and then pulled the blanket over herself.  Closing her eyes, Rey thought she’d get the best night of sleep in her entire life.  She was wrong.  Her body, so accustomed to sleeping on a hard, flat surface, couldn’t adjust to this newer, softer arrangement.  No matter how hard she tried, Rey couldn’t get comfortable, and so, after a few hours of tortured turning from one side to the other, Rey grabbed the pillow and blankets and moved off the bed and onto the hard floor.  Her body, now at peace on the hard, cold floor, finally relaxed and within minutes Rey felt her consciousness slip away into the dream world.

* * *

 

Standing in line for Unkar Plutt’s hut, Rey fidgeted almost obsessively with the makeshift sleeves she’d made for herself the other night.  She’d found someone within the Niima Outpost who sold old, worn, and reused fabrics.  Rey had bartered with the seller—an elderly male Uthuthma—offering him three fusion chambers for two yards of fabric.  It had cost her some portions, but Rey figured it was worth it.  Now her arms and hands would be protected—or, _better_ protected—while she worked in the Graveyard of Giants.  Still, the fabric scratched and rubbed her skin in an unfamiliar way and Rey couldn’t stop her fingers from pulling and adjusting the sleeves every few seconds.  Hopefully she’d acclimate to the change soon enough.   

Rey sighed and shook her head before taking a step forward in line.  Either everyone had waited until now to exchange their goods with Unkar Plutt, or it had been a phenomenal day in the Graveyard for the scavengers.  Looking down into her own net-weaved satchel, Rey wrinkled her nose in thought.  She’d had a relatively good scavenging day, so it wasn’t impossible to think that others had been just as lucky.  Still, she thought as she moved forward again and began filling her arms with her items, with so many people flooding Unkar Plutt with good items, the payment would decrease and the portion prices would increase.  It was a classic Unkar Plutt move.

Rey’s stomach’s muscles cramped hard at the thought, but she willed the pain away.  She’d get what she’d get from Unkar Plutt and be grateful she was getting anything at all.  Readjusting some of the items in her arms, Rey stepped forward in line again.  “Rey!”  Her spine stiffened.  She thought she heard something—something that sounded suspiciously like her name—but she ignored it.  It was probably just the wind.

“ _Rey_!” She heard again.  This time she _knew_ it was her name being called, but who would be calling for her?  Heart jumping into her throat, she thought that maybe— _just maybe_ —it was her family.  Turning around, Rey tried to find the person calling for her.  In the distance she saw a tall man who’s skin color screamed he belonged on a planet without such a harsh sun, hair as dark as space itself, and wore clothes that matched.  His face was long and narrow, and the muscles within it were twisted with too many emotions for Rey to even begin to decipher from so far away. 

Her mind shut down.  It was almost as if a blanket of safety wrapped itself around her brain.  Her senses dulled and a warm, fuzzy feeling of content washed over her.  Looking at him—this _stranger_ —meant safety.  He represented _home_.  Rey’s mouth opened, her tongue began to form a word before her brain could catch up and understand _what_ word was being formed.  Before sound could escape her, though, a sharp pain assaulted her protective psyche blanket.  Lips pulling back in a grimace, Rey closed her eyes and tried to shake the pain away.  The pain was gone almost as quickly as it came, and Rey opened her eyes, trying to relocate the man that had brought her entire being such peace, but when she looked out to the desert sands, she couldn’t find anyone that looked like the man or anyone even looking in her direction.

Shoulder slumping with dejection, Rey told herself she was being silly.  It was a mirage, that was all.  Her name being called, the vision of the man, all of it was just an illusion that her sun baked brain cooked up.  The pain, she figured, must have been another hunger pain.  Trying hard to release her feeling of disappointment, Rey blew hot air out of her nose and turned back around.  She needed to finish her business with Unkar Plutt, gather her well-earned portions, and go home to rest.  Maybe with some shade and food, she’d be able to forget all about the mirage-man and the false feelings of belonging and comfort that accompanied him.

* * *

 

Walking away from Unkar Plutt’s hut with half a satchel bag full of portions—it was a good day for scavenging—Rey looked out across the desert horizon.  The wind had picked up since she’d left the Graveyard of Giants earlier in the afternoon and a feeling deep in her belly told her that a ferocious storm was on its way.  Readjusting her loose fabric back around her head and mouth, then putting on her goggles, Rey prepared herself for the journey home and hoped she’d make it back to the AT-AT before the storm hit.  She’d found the goggles recently.  They were hidden away on a Star Destroyer that had been almost completely gutted throughout the years.  Rey had come across them crammed in between a wall and the hollowed out skeleton of a missile launcher.  She had a better pair before these, Rey reminisced sadly, but had to sell those years ago to Unkar Plutt for two portions.  It was one of her biggest regrets, especially because those portions had done nothing to absolve her of her hunger pains.  These goggles were a little loose and never felt secure enough.  Rey fiddled with the straps, trying to make them tighter, but they’d have to do as is until she could make it home.  There she could better adjust them.  For now though, her priority was to simply beat the storm home.

Hopping onto her speeder, Rey drove as fast as her home made vehicle allowed.  Which was, admittedly, pretty fast.  It had taken her a long time to build—even longer to find all the necessary parts—but Rey couldn’t be prouder of the end result.  It was almost a cross between a normal speeder and a swoop, was able to carry heavy loads, and, most importantly, was fast.  It was ideal for Rey, considering her occupation, and whenever she thought of the machine, a small, triumphant smile graced her lips. 

The speeder got Rey back to her AT-AT with just moments to spare.  The wind speeds had doubled, making it almost impossible for Rey to see—even with her goggles—because of the clouds of sand being formed.  Sealing the entryway behind her, Rey shook the sand off her before unwrapping the fabric around her face and puling the goggles off her head.  Placing the goggles on her work bench, she sat down beside it and began to tinker with some of the items there.  Sometimes the items she scavenged could be fixed—or looked like they could be fixed—and she’d bring them back home with her instead of straight to Unkar Plutt.  If she could get just one of the pieces working again, she’d earn herself twice as many portions than if she were to give him the broken piece.  After all, Unkar Plutt always paid more for items that still worked.  Rey discovered that fact when she was younger, and as she grew, she always kept an eye out for anything that would enable her to take advantage of that fact.  She figured she’d use this time—the time the storm gave her—to focus on tinkering with some of these items. 

The storm took longer than Rey thought it would.  It dragged on for days and days.  By the third day of the storm, she’d fixed everything on her workbench that could be fixed and she began to worry about her dwindling supplies.  Long ago she’d began to store away any extra portions and water in case anything like this storm ever happened, but without knowing how long it would go on for, Rey wasn’t sure how much she should ration herself each day.  Deciding to play it safe than sorry, she tried to eat and drink as little as possible, hoping to extend her cache for as long as possible. 

Hunger pains racked her body, but that wasn’t too unusual for Rey.  She knew the best way to overcome the ravenous feeling inside herself was to take her mind off it.  Usually scavenging was her escape, but since the storm took that option away, she had to get creative.  One of the items she’d fixed, she’d discovered, was a simulation device.  Turning it on, Rey blinked in surprise when she saw it was a flight simulator—and advanced one at that.  Excitement buzzing through her veins, Rey fiddled around with some of the settings and options and discovered she was able to choose between dozens of different ships and hundreds of different locations.  The simulator offered to her the names of planets and systems that she’d never even heard of before.  It was truly amazing.  She’d always wondered what other planets looked like, and now she could find out.  All without stepping one foot off Jakku. 

By the time the storm finally did end, she’d flown a number of ships—she’d lost count—from small, repulsor-driven atmospheric crafts to several different types of fighters, she even got around to some of the stock freighters.  It was like she’d entered a whole new galaxy.  One where she was a real pilot and she could go anywhere she wanted whenever she wanted.  Rey’s large, thrilled smile dampened some when she realized the storm had finally ended, meaning she’d have to return to the Graveyard for work.  She’d have to return her attention to scavenging—to surviving—and leave the flight simulation behind.  At least, she thought as a wry smile replaced her previous one, until the next sand storm hit.

* * *

 

After scratching another tally mark into the wall of her AT-AT, Rey collected her now fully cooked portion onto a plate and moved to eat it outside.  She’d had a trying day in the Graveyard.  She’d had to go deeper into a Star Destroyer than was usually needed, and her arms were still aching from all the climbing she’d had to do.  Still, it was a nice night out and Rey knew she’d regret it if she didn’t at least try and appreciate it.  For once the winds were still, they weren’t picking up the small grains of sand and slicing away at any uncovered skin, and the sun had almost set, meaning the sand was still warm, but the air was nice and cool.  Rey sat down outside the AT-AT and sighed as her muscles relaxed against the soft, warm sand. 

Feeling light headed with exhaustion and a touch giddy, Rey put an old Rebellion pilot helmet—something she’d found inside her AT-AT ages ago—and continued to look out over the darkening sand dunes while shoving as much food as she could fit into her mouth.  She’d just finished with her meal when she heard something unusual.  It was muffled, and not organic sounding, but Rey knew it was a cry for help all the same.  Looking around sharply, Rey quickly ripped off her old pilot helmet and stood up, trying to locate the source of the sound.  Grabbing her quarterstaff, she ran off in the direction of the noise. 

Coming over the crest of a sand dune, Rey saw Teedo dragging along a droid in a net.  Brows furrowing.  The droid was shouting at Teedo, telling him to let it go—that it didn’t belong to him, but Teedo wasn’t listening, as usual.  Rey could feel her indignation building up inside her chest.  That droid was still fully functioning!  It was sentient and was telling Teedo to stop.  Teedo _needed_ to stop.   “Teedo!”  She called, “Tal’ama parqual!” What did he think he was doing?  The droid was not his, and obviously not something he scavenged from the Graveyard.  Teedo and the droid both stopped their movements to look up at Rey. 

“Parqual! Zatana tappan-aboo!” Teedo responded with derision thick in his tone.  He didn’t like Rey’s interference.  He just wanted to trade the droid, and gather up his payment.

Rey frowned and set her jaw.  Teedo’s words were uncalled for.  Not since she was a child had she been talked to like that—especially not by a fellow desert dweller.  Sliding down the dune, she pulled out a small knife she kept on her and started cutting away at his net.  “Namago!” she growled. “Ta bana contoqual!”  Teedo tried to yell at her, tried to call her attention away from the droid by baiting her with slurs and even more derision, but she didn’t look away from the net until the droid was free.  Pointing her knife at him, she threatened, “Noma. Ano tamata, zatana.”  He would not get this droid.  And if he wanted it that badly, he’d have to go through _her_ first. 

Teedo, never one for a fight, continued his verbal attack but steered his mount away from Rey and the droid all the same.  Once he was a safe distance away, the little droid, which had been pretty silent up until then, called out its own version of a swear.  Rey’s head snapped down at the droid in surprise.  She didn’t even know droids _could_ swear.  “Shh,” she told it, not wanting Teedo to feel the need to come back.  Bending down so she was on level with the droid, Rey reached out her hands and said, “Your antenna’s bent,” before grabbing the small wire and plucking it out of the droid’s dome head.  “That’s just Teedo,” she told it as she straightened the wire, “he has no respect for anything.”  There was a short pause before Rey asked, “Where do you come from?”  Her curiosity was practically burning now that Teedo was gone.  What _was_ such a sophisticated droid doing on its own in the middle of the desert?  It beeped at her and she snorted, “Classified, really?  Me, too.”  She unconsciously began screwing the antenna harder back into the droid’s head.  “There,” she said, once the antenna was back to its rightful position.

Standing back up, Rey pointed towards the direction of the nearest town “You’re going to want to head in that direction, towards Niima.  Be sure to watch out for the tar pits, or you’ll end up drowning in them.”  With that, Rey gave herself a little nod, feeling she’d done all she could do, and turned around to head back home.  The droid seemed to disagree, however, and told her it’d rather follow her.  “No,” she said slowly once she saw what it was doing.  She pointed again, “Town’s _that_ way.” It beeped again, sounding so distraught, so sad, and so very, very _lonely_.  Feeling her resolve deflate like a popped balloon, Rey jerked her head to the side, signaling to the droid that it could follow.  Chirping happily, and quite incessantly, it caught up to Rey and rolled alongside her as she led the way home.

Although the droid seemed averse to telling her where it was from, it had no problem telling her what to call it.  “BB-8, huh? I’m Rey.”  

**Author's Note:**

> As always, comments/kudos/whatever are much appreciated! (Seriously, the more comments, the happier I get. The happier I get, the faster I write so please let me know if you enjoyed it in some way!) This took a long time to write, but I thoroughly enjoyed it! I think the next installation will be another Kylo POV set during TFA (maybe?) Idk, I wouldn't be able to start on it for like a week from now anyhow. 
> 
> I had some issues finding the exact wording for Rey's conversation with BB-8 but I tried my best and if anyone knows where I could get the exact wording just shoot me a message and I can easily add it in!
> 
> I'm also considering doing AU's for this fandom.
> 
> I'm on tumblr (hammiesworkshop) and if anyone would like to submit prompts I'd be happy (oh so very happy) to write something for you (so long as its SFW)


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